


Dog Problems

by 1989Rad



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Understanding Eachother, dog related fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 22:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20433407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1989Rad/pseuds/1989Rad
Summary: If the Batfamily was a bakery, Tim Drake would be white bread.Damian did not get just what Titus saw in Timothy Wayne-Drake.





	Dog Problems

**Author's Note:**

> Damian is a freshman in college because that’s a stressful time I wanted to talk about.

Damian didn’t see the appeal.

Didn’t get just what Titus saw in Timothy Wayne-Drake. 

The man was a disaster, mouth agape, half way off the couch, still half dressed in his tights from patrol, disaster. There was absolutely nothing redeemable about Tim off the battlefield. Every part of him screamed average adult male - from his height to his bad habits of messy bedrooms to his interest in skateboarding and Green Day. 

Yes, Damian could easily admit now, when Tim was in costume he was admirable, strong with a bostaff, and more clever than the entire city, but out of costume, well Damian found him unremarkable. Boring. Lackluster. 

If the Batfamily was a bakery, Tim Drake would be white bread. 

And yet, Titus, who tended to only pay attention to pizza crust, laid on top of him. The massive dog was crushing Tim into the sofa. Deep breaths and mumbled nonsense slipped between the cushions. Titus kicked out his back paw to squish it against Tim’s cheek. The man simply groaned a bit and buried his face deeper into his pillow. Damian did not find it charming.

It started with breakfast. If Damian was returning from a mission or later than usual to breakfast, he would find Titus begging at Tim’s feet. Pleading eyes focused on the weakest link no doubt. There was no way Alfred or Bruce would sneak a treat to Titus. They were too strong. Had too much experience with children and rogues whining to get their way, but Tim? Tim could be broken. Tim could be swayed by puppy dog eyes and Titus knew all he had to do was wait. 

Every morning this would happen resulted in the same conversation. Tim would look up at Damian with a sheepish grin and ask, “just one piece of toast?” Or “just a spoonful of scrambled egg?”

And every morning Damian would respond exactly the same. “We do not reward begging.” Tim’s face would then twist with sympathy and frustration before huffing. He knew better than to tell Damian how to raise his pets and wouldn’t argue further. But he still tried, morning after morning, he tried. 

Damian’s skin prickled at the thought of both Titus and Tim’s pouting.

It only got worse from there. 

Whenever Tim went out to skateboard, Titus would beg at the door to chase him. Eventually Damian gave into this request, convincing himself it was good training for Titus to run after a moving object. 

Damian would sit with his phone, or sketch pad and watch as the beast of a dog slobbered at Tim’s skateboard. More often than not, the two would end up in a heep on the floor, tangled with laughter and wagging tails. 

Damian loved Titus. Loved the dog dearly. But his interest in chasing Tim till they both collapsed in the grass, was a urge he didn’t quite get. Still the figure drawing practice was helpful, and the exercise was healthy for the aging dog. Damian didnt see a good enough reason to complain.

Damian even kept his mouth shut when Titus spent extra time sniffing Tim’s laundry. He reasoned, it may be helpful for if Titus ever needs to track Tim through Gotham. Let the dog learn, Damian told himself. No harm done. 

Whatever the indulgence, walking alongside Tim, or eating his shoes, Damian allowed Titus to indulge so long as it wasn’t harmful.

It wasn’t until Damian caught Titus crushing a sleeping Tim beneath him, that he started to feel something churn in his stomach. 

Something about the sight, made Damian’s throat clench. Maybe it was the absurdity of it? A 190 pound Great Dane laying on top of a 140 pound adult male? It was comical. 

Their snores virbratied through the living room. Damian swore he saw the shelves shake on a particularly deep exhale between them. 

Damian stared at them both with mixed interest. He was tired. His muscles ached from the night out. From being slammed against the concrete by Killer Croc, and his mind? His mind was aching. His freshman year of college exams more difficult than anticipated. True, he no doubt passed, but just the toll of testing was enough to exhaust anyone. He also did not preform to the best of his ability due to a Titan’s mission. If his mother knew should would have been furious. Anything less than academic perfection was a failure. 

He swallowed and thought of their teams. Young Justice apparently was gallivanting through Gemworld again while Damian and his Titans were stuck chasing a drug cartel and fighting again over what to do with the criminals they caught. 

To make matters worse, Dick was off world, Jon was with the Legion and he had been fighting with his father. 

Damian had just wanted to sleep. See no one for a few hours. Cuddle up with his pets and go to bed, but here Titus was, sleeping on top of the most unremarked man Damian knew. He blinked something wet away and scowled. It was the final blow.

“Titus,” he started much too soft. Damian cleared his voice and tried again. “Titus!” All at once the dog’s ears twitched and he pressed into a seated position, pressing his hind legs into Tim’s back.

“Ow,” Tim groaned, “what? Who’s on me?” He twisted and Titus leapt from the sofa, kicking Tim in the process who let out another bemused groan. 

“Titus come,” Damian commanded. The dog followed perfectly and Tim pushed against his forearms to look up.

“Ah,” Tim mumbled, “That explains why I was dreaming of being an ironing board” Damian’s noise twitched at the lazy humor. 

“Sit.” Titus sat. “Good Boy,” Damian said out of habit instead of affection. He scratched behind the dog’s ear. Jealousy at his dog’s preference still fresh in his mouth. He focused on the dog’s big eyes. Searched them for the reassurance he needed. His head pounded from how tight his held his jaw. 

“You alright Damian?” Tim asked. Instantly Damian’s head snapped back to glare at him. 

“Of course I’m fine,” he mocked and Tim’s eyes widened slightly. “I simply would like MY dog to be with me.” Tim’s eyes darted down to Titus as Damian straightened to stand. For a beat they simply stared at each other. Damian held his glare while Tim searched his expression for clues as to what he did to offend. 

Damian turned first, too angry to explain and too tired to argue. The dog looked back at Tim and Damian ordered a heavy “Come Tit-“

“Wait,” Tim started pushing his himself up to sit properly. His loose T-shirt and leggings the perfect example of comfort. Damian was still dressed for school and felt another pang of envy surge. “How about you come sit here,” Tim offered, slowly and almost surprised at his own words. “I uh,” he paused and Damian huffed for him to continue. “I haven’t been sleeping well,” Tim admitted or lied, Damian was too exhausted to notice. “Titus is sort of like an anxiety blanket. The weight feels great. We can like sit together and watch a movie or something and he can lay across us both.”

“Or,” Damian retorted, “I can take MY dog wherever I damn well please.” Tim winced as Damian continued, “I don’t even understand what he sees in you? Why does he choose, in a house full of extrodinary people, to spend time with you? It’s baffeling!” Tim stood quickly, and the words continued to spill, “It’s so frustrating. Like what about you attracts him? I feed him. I walk him. I bathe and care for him and yet he chases you around like a lost, like a lost oh-”

“-puppy?”

“Fuck you Tim. Fuck you and your Team who just do nonsense mission across 20 universes all the time. It sucks! It’s always mass murderers and disasterous bloodthirsty monsters for us. Plus you can just take off from Wayne enterprise whenever! Colleges don’t care about my title. I miss a test for a mission, and there is no makeup.” 

He could hear it. Hear how his voice cracked. How his throat was wet and how his words were spilling. He felt the embarrassment, the frustration. They balled up in his shoulders and tightened each and every muscle. His chest was heavy with something ugly and dark. 

“Well you could always-”

“I refuse to get special treatment for my name,” Damian spat, “I want to earn my degree without my father or mother’s involvement-”

“That’s not what I was going-” Tim was close now. Close enough to touch and Damian felt so small. 

“I don’t care what you were going to say. I don’t care what you think. I’m sick of your average boring self getting all of Titus’s attention and-”

Tim hugged him. Aggressively and in a way that always caused Damian to collapse. Tim hugged Damian close to his chest. Stood up on his toes to do so. Squeezed awkwardly and didn’t care that Damian’s chin was digging into his shoulder. Didn’t care that instantly Damian’s palms rose to push against his chest. Ready to push. Ready to fight and defend and-

“I’m sorry Damian,” Tim whispered, “I know that I am not as good of a hugger as Dick but I hope this helps. You’re dealing with a lot. You deserve some time with your dog. Sorry for asking for him.” The former Robin gave a final squeeze before beginning to pull away.

Damian’s mind seized. He didn’t think so much as do. He snaked his hands around Tim’s chest to hug back. Buried his face into the crook of Tim’s neck and let himself shake. Shake and feel and hold Tim harder than he probably should. He felt no guilt. Knew Tim could take it. Knew Tim could take a great deal of things. Could take a beating like the best of them. Could hold grief, regret, and worry without complaint. 

Damian hugged Tim and lied to himself about if he cried or not. Titus pressed up against their legs, attempting to fit in the space between. His soft whine eased the knot in Damian’s stomach. Tim massaged his hands into the muscle below his palms. 

Time may have stood still. May have sped up. Damian didn’t know. He didn’t count the seconds. He simply let himself be held till the need had left him. He pulled back to see Tim’s face. Tired eyes and a worn smile. 

Damian had seen that look of empathy smear across Tim’s featured but never felt its safety. It’s comfort. This was the face that made Tim a good Robin. Made the people of Gotham feel safe. Made his father choose him. Made Titus happy. 

The dog snuffled between them and Tim’s grin spread, “so how about that movie?” Damian nodded instead of speaking and let himself be guided to the couch. They sat shoulder to shoulder as Titus jumped up to lay across their laps. His heavy body comforting in a strange way. 

Damian snuck a peak at Tim and understood. Understood the appeal of Tim without the the mask. 

What was remarkable about Tim, Damian decided, wasn’t a trick or interest. It was how safe he could make someone feel. Dick. Stephanie. Cassandra. His father. Young Justice, even his father, they knew Tim Drake beyond the mask and needed him. They needed how Tim Drake made them felt in the same way Batman needs a Robin. 

And wasn’t that, that ability to make someone like Bruce or Damian feel safe, wasn’t that something extraordinary? White bread, Damian decided, wasn’t so boring after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Was originally going to be more shippy but a more platonic vibe is what happened instead. Hope y’all enjoy. 
> 
> Just trying to get back into writing more frequently.


End file.
